


Imprévu

by Pocket_Full_Of_Rosies



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Businessman Levi, Eren get off social media, Facebook, Grisha Yeager's Bad Parenting, Homophobic Grisha Yeager, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Online Relationship, Phone Sex, Slow Build, Student Eren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-10 23:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11701992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pocket_Full_Of_Rosies/pseuds/Pocket_Full_Of_Rosies
Summary: Eren adds random people on Facebook, hoping to get more likes on his posts. Reconnecting with Levi Ackerman, his kindergarten reading buddy and playground tormentor is unexpected.





	1. Facebook

Because there are no problems in life greater than those that come up in high school, Eren Jaëger found himself neglecting his college applications (and by extension, his _future_ ) in favor of refreshing his Facebook page for the nth time, then sighing in disappointment. 

“I want to die.” He announced and face-planted dramatically into Armin’s beanbag chair. 

The blonde only snorted and sorted through more university brochures, pushing his thick glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. 

“Eren, I swear to you, you’ll want to die more when you’re thirty with no university education and living under a bridge.” Armin said as he filled out yet another form requesting financial aid. “But of course, continue on about how much your life sucks because it’s been less than two hours and _only_ fifty-six people have liked your profile picture.” Armin rolled his eyes. “Not to mention you stole my phone and liked your own picture.” 

Eren’s voice, muffled against the beanbag chair, gave a whoop of excitement. 

“Hannah, Franz, and Mina just liked it! Oh — wait for it, another _ten_ people.” Eren fist pumped into the air. “Take that Horseface!” But Eren’s elation didn’t last long as he swiped onto Jean’s page. 

The two high school seniors had updated their profile pictures at exactly the same time, the question of which of the two will fork over lunch money hanging in the air. Eren’s sixty-nine likes was falling short of Jean’s seventy-five. 

“God-fucking-dammit!” Eren groaned and lightly threw his phone onto the couch (he still had enough sense in him not to break it; the last thing he needed was more expenses on top of the $20 he might end up owing Jean). “Why did seventy-fucking-five people like Jean’s photo? Do they find horses attractive? _Sexually attractive_? Oh. My. God.”

Armin looked up upon hearing the pitch change in Eren’s voice. Though skeptical that something could be seriously wrong, the pallor in Eren’s face, and the dullness of his normally vibrant sea-green eyes had the blonde boy worried. 

“Eren? You okay?” He asked. “What was it about Jean being sexually attractive?” Eren winced at the words that left his best friend’s mouth. It pained him to hear the words ‘Jean’ and ‘sexually attractive’ in the same sentence.  

“ _Mikasa_ liked Jean’s profile picture.” Eren’s voice was a distraught whisper. His face was the mask of a man who had lost all faith in humanity. “My own sister likes Jean’s photo. Traitor! Armin! She didn’t even like _my_ picture but she liked _Jean’s!_ ” He snarled. “She’s like Daniel Radcliffe in that horse porno!” 

Armin returned his attention to his paperwork, rolling his eyes at his own wasted time. “It’s a stage play, Eren, that’s more than a bit different than a porno.”

Eren arched a brow, genuinely curious. “It was live? Damn, Harry Potter got all _Wingardium Leviosa_ over live horse mating?”

It was at moments like this when Armin Arlert questioned why he and Eren Jaëger were still best friends. Okay, the reasons are pretty obvious: Armin truly cherished his childhood best friend, the one who protected him from bullies and swapped his grapes for Armin’s detested cherry tomatoes in the second grade. But to even out the Holy Balancing Scale of Reciprocated Friendship, Eren owed him many more grapes. Like truckfulls, for the daily shit Armin has to put up with. 

Calmly, Armin set aside his application for Central Maria State University, hoping to put an end to Eren’s frivolous and frankly, petty worries. It was for reasons like this that Armin himself didn’t bother with social media; he didn’t see the point in reminding his friend circle what his face looked like every day with new selfies. And he had found himself quite bewildered in the tenth grade when Eren started uploading daily pictures of himself, headlined with quotes that had nothing to do with the picture. 

“Eren, how many friends do you have on Facebook?”

The brunette did a quick check, then answered. “Uh, four hundred and seventy-two?”   


“And how many does Jean have?”

“Just over six hundred.”

“There we go.” Armin waved his pen. “Obviously not everyone on your friend list will like your posts, but the more friends you have, the pool that you’re trying to fish likes out of grows, and the probability of getting more likes also increases.” 

Armin could almost see the lightbulb that went off under the brunette’s messy curls, lighting the boy up from the inside out. The lightbulb’s rays shone through Eren’s eyes, instantly reviving the seas of aquamarine, and his trademark look of determination.

A confident grin quirked on his lips. “So, my resident genius, what you’re saying is that I should find more friends on Facebook.” He stated the obvious. Armin answered with an “Mmm-hmm.”

“Right! So I’m gonna look on my recommended lists and —”

“Eren.” 

Armin only used that tone of voice, the one which promised to unleash the Ten Plagues of Egypt, when he was utterly fed up with Eren’s antics and could Eren just _please, please_ shut up and listen before the cops find his body in a ditch somewhere? Pouting but slightly frightened, Eren gave the small blonde his full attention and a glare: _this won’t work for much longer, Armin. I know you too well: as soon as you turn eighteen and can be charged for murder as an adult, you’ll stop constantly planning my murder. Enjoy it while you can._ But still, Armin had a full year left to be charged as a juvie and Eren didn’t want to push his luck. 

(Eren himself only had four months until he could be held responsible for murder as an adult; maybe he should start doubling his efforts to kill Jean soon)

He groaned as he watched Armin set a thick stack of brochures in front of him. “Since I’m such a great best friend who does _not_ want to see you dead under a bridge at age thirty, I’m gonna sit here and watch you finish going through these brochures.” He flashed the brunette a stern look. “Eren, it’s November already. You have to start planning.” 

“Yeah, but I already know where I’m going.” Eren rolled his eyes, thinking of his father’s uncharacteristically enthusiastic anecdotes about his time at Marley Medical School every night at dinner, while looking at his son pointedly. Grisha had to be the most passive-aggressive bastard under the sun. The old man couldn’t be any more obvious. 

“Marley? Like your father wants you to?” Armin questioned, though knowing the answer. “Do you have any alternatives?” 

His tone was casual, but Eren could tell that Armin was pointedly refusing to use trigger phrases like _Have you thought of what YOU want?_ or _It’s YOUR life, Eren, NOT your father’s, now what do you want to do with it?_ Eren had already gotten that line of questioning from Mikasa, and it hadn’t gone well in the form of a black eye where Mikasa had socked him to calm his temper. Armin knew better than to open that can of maggots and Eren loved him for it. 

“Well, looks like I’ll have to start digging for some.” He replied glumly as Armin placed another stack of pamphlets before him. He grabbed the top one — Sina Institute of Preparatory Medicine — and resigned himself to three hours of his nose buried in brochures. 

“On the upside,” Armin commented as he picked up Eren’s buzzing phone. “You got another three likes, which brings you up to seventy-two. But still less than Jean.” 

Moaning pitifully, Eren slammed his head on the table, sending the pamphlets flying. 

“Four more months,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m Eren fucking Jaëger, I can totally off Jean as a juvie. No probs.” 

“What?” Armin looked disturbed.

“Nothing.” 

* * *

It was past seven when Eren tiptoed into his house, careful not to be spotted by his father who reclined in the kitchen. 

“— like I’ve been telling him, Carla, it’s an amazing school, my _alma mater,_ not to mention. Excellent pre-med and med school. Prestigious to the _heavens,_ and when he graduates I can easily get him into my hospital, no questions asked. The Dean of Students, Kruger, is an old buddy of mine. He’ll make sure Eren is looked after away from home, speaking of which —” 

Eren rolled his eyes as he peeked into the kitchen. Grisha was seated with his back to the door, not noticing his son (thank god). Carla caught his eye and gave a small forced smile before subtly giving a twitch of her head, motioning for him to escape to his room before Grisha could wrap his tentacles around him. Eren mimed prayer in thanks before zipping up the stairs, closing the door to his room before collapsing onto his bed. 

It wasn’t as though Eren really hated the idea of going to Marley, nor that he really was fine with going. Objectively, Marley was a good school where being Grisha Jaëger’s son got him instant connections, and, well, going would shut his father up on the subject of Eren’s post-secondary education. But then of course, Grisha would find something new to harp on him. Eren wasn’t optimistic enough to hope that with his entrance to adulthood, and fulfillment of his father’s one and only dream to be fellow alumni with his son, would keep his father off his case for the rest of his life. 

He turned onto his back, staring into the whiteness of his ceiling. Marley was a good place for someone like Eren; someone who couldn’t be bothered to do much thinking about his future, and instead opted for the Pre-Packaged and Pre-Determined Life Plan (instructions all included) his father had offered him at a discount rate when he left his old man’s ballsack. 

But…he was Eren fucking Jaëger, and Eren fucking Jaëger doesn`t just do what others tell him to. If he did, then he would have stopped cock-blocking Jean and Mikasa since the Horse asked him to from day one. 

The truth was, despite how practical Marley sounded, the idea of being on that sterile-looking campus of black and grey buildings enclosed in sharp black fences, no flora or fauna in sight, bothered him. The fact that Eren Kruger (his fucking namesake) was there to `take care` of him, in other words, _report_ his every last movement to his father, disgusted him. Grisha Jaëger cared about his son; more than he`d ever admit to — after all, if he didn`t care so much for Eren`s future, he wouldn`t have put in this much effort. But he was more stubborn than a mule when it came to upholding `his principles`. 

Eren frequently found himself at odds with Grisha in recent years: Eren`s education, what he ate, what extra-curriculars he was involved in, _his friends._ That last one had been Eren`s first real blow-up on his father. The others, he could deal with his father micromanaging; but when it came to his family at school, Eren was fiercely protective of them, even against his own father. He remembered that first fight: Jean had just come out as bisexual to Eren. The two boys were sitting in Eren`s room, on Eren`s bed, in a moment of unusual serenity following Eren`s “You do what you do, Horseface, just not me.”

Jean had beamed at him, and cheesily, Eren admitted that in that moment he looked less equine and more like a human. 

Neither of them counted on Grisha eavesdropping outside the door, hands clutched into tight fists as his suspicions of that fairy-boy Kirstein were finally confirmed. And then when Jean said that he still had feelings for Mikasa, Grisha promptly stormed into the room and flew into a fury when he saw his darling son on the same bed as a confirmed _faggot._ He threw Jean out, not before screaming obscenities, telling him to stay away from both Mikasa _and_ Eren. 

Eren had screamed back at his father, shocking the man. He screamed and screamed. So what if Jean liked dudes and girls? It wasn’t as though he had a chance with Mikasa — or gaining Eren’s approval — anyways. So what did it matter that he swung both ways, but still liked Mikasa, _and still_ was a (begrudgingly) good friend to Eren? 

But his father’s treatment of one of his closest friends horrified him. That night was when Eren first became aware of Grisha’s efforts to groom him into as close of a carbon copy as possible, considering he inherited half his genes from Carla. And honestly…it frightened him. 

He started thinking: of all the important decisions in his life, how many did he make? Even the most trivial things — Grisha decided the brand of toilet paper the Jaëger family used — seemed to be decided by his father. Of course, these decisions didn’t do him much harm, most of the time: he was getting good grades, was captain of the soccer team and secretary on the student council (and he never got any butt rashes from his father’s preferred brand of toilet paper). And should he go with Grisha’s decision and attend Marley, his future would be secured. 

But deep in his gut, the seas were dark and stormy, his small boat treading cautiously on the waters of Grisha’s temperament. He constantly feared the violent tides of his father’s favor reversing, afraid that the things that he held dear, the things that made him _Eren,_ and not just Grisha Jaëger’s son, would have to be sacrificed to keep his boat afloat on Grisha’s waters. 

That night when Jean had been unceremoniously booted from the Jaëger house, had Eren not chased his friend onto the streets, where they huddled together on the curb and cried, would he still have Jean as a friend? Or would their friendship have sunken to the bottom of the sea, where it would be buried under layers of collected sediment?

His boat had become waterlogged since then, and he was constantly scooping out bucketfuls in order to stay in Grisha’s good graces. Tricky, but he managed. A small price to pay to keep Horseface in his life. 

(After all, if Jean disappears from Eren’s life, it would be because Eren donated his corpse to Elmer’s Product to make glue.)

The truth was, Eren did have alternatives, _preferences._ Trost University was a couple of towns over, had an outstanding reputation for the life-sciences, a strong local economy, and zilch connections to Grisha Jaëger and his fancy-shmancy private hospital. It was a fresh start, a place where Grisha had no lackey to keep tabs on him and micromanage him from afar. Jean, Krista, and Marco were all aiming for Trost. Armin’s dream school, Central Maria, was only an hour’s drive away. And Mikasa was set on Europe, so Eren going to Trost wouldn’t make a difference in staying in contact with her. 

But he’ll probably still end up going to Marley. Still, the idea of going to a school of his choice was a nice thought to entertain. But not now. Now Eren had more important things to think about. At the moment he had more important _high school_ problems to deal with.

He sauntered over to his desk, sat down in his chair and logged onto Facebook. “Damn,” he muttered. Jean’s likes had just breached one hundred. Eren was still lagging in the mid-eighties. What he would give to be like…Krista, who could easily get over two hundred likes with any unfiltered, unflattering photo (he doubted any unflattering pics of her existed).

“Okay, Eren. Take Armin’s advice. You have friends. Now find more friends.” He chanted to himself as he pulled out a paper and a pen to brainstorm. Shit. He and Jean have known each other for the past seven years, had the same friend group, attended the same clubs, and worked at the same community center. Jean, however, and a ridiculously large network of second and third-cousins, family friends, and friends of family friends; a pool of likes that Eren had no access to in his own family

“Think, Eren, think,” he chided as his eyes slid over to the gaggle of plushies that his mother had gotten for him in elementary school. Wait…he and Jean went to different elementary schools! “That’s it!” He shouted (and alerted his father that he was home). His elementary school friends were the pool that he needed. He was pretty sure that they would be on Facebook too. 

Now was the hard part: remembering their names. He recalled a girl with a brown ponytail who stole his lunch everyday — his first bully. He rolled his eyes and chuckled at the thought now. Sasha…something. 

“Sasha…Blaine, Blaire…Blake? No, that’s not right,” he muttered as he crossed out all the wrong ones. “Sasha…Blouse! Right! Blouse!” Excitedly, he entered her name into the search engine and excitedly added her. Her profile picture was her and a bald kid at a buffet. He was tagged as ‘Connie Springer’. “Springer…right! Springrolls! Connie Springrolls!” He remembered that the two in the photo had become fast friends in junior kindergarten when Sasha mistook his surname as ‘springrolls’, and declared that she wanted a best friend with such a ‘delicious’ last name. 

This was easier than Eren thought it would be. 

He clicked onto Sasha’s friends list, praising the girl for not have privated her account. He found quite a few of his former classmates, and felt quite proud of his stalking abilities. As he double-scrolled through the list, making sure not to miss any name, his eyes fell on a certain name: Isabel Magnolia. 

Isabel Magnolia had popped up in his Suggested Friends quite a few times, but he had always dismissed her, thinking of her as a stranger. She seemed to be popular like Krista, not having trouble to gain likes. At the top of her wall was a photo of two hands with fingers intertwined, matching rings on the fourth fingers. It was captioned: _I said yes._ Tagged in the post, was some guy named Farlan Church, whose name was also starting to sound familiar

The two were upperclassmen who had been in the sixth grade when Eren was in junior kindergarten. He wrinkled his nose. It felt silly to refer to sixth graders as upperclassmen when he was a senior in high school. 

He added Isabel Magnolia and within seconds, the friendship was confirmed. Even more bewildering, was that Eren received a notification that Isabel Magnolia liked his photo! 

**Isabel Magnolia commented:**

Cute pic! <3 

“Wow Armin,” Eren gasped, eyes wide. This plan was really working! Eren went back to her page, where he liked her engagement photo, then added Farlan Church. He then scrolled through her friends’ list, adding any name that sounded vaguely familiar. Soon, he was getting many, many more confirmed friendships:

**Farlan Church accepted your Friend Request**

**Rico Brzenska accepted your Friend Request**

**Kitz Weilman accepted your Friend Request**

**Sasha Blouse accepted your Friend Request**  

**Ian Dietrich accepted your Friend Request**  

**Connie Springer accepted your Friend Request**

“They just keep coming in!” Eren felt giddy with each notification that popped up. “We’re gonna kick Jean’s ass, right guys?” He asked the plushies; he had never been abel to kick his old childhood habit of talking to his toys. 

“Eren! Dinner!” Carla called from downstairs. 

Eren quickly added a few more people before leaving his desk. “Coming!” He said as he stepped over the threshold of his room. 

When the door to his room shut, his still-running laptop displayed a new notification: 

**Levi Ackerman accepted your Friend Request**

* * *

It was ten past twelve that night when Eren first noticed the traffic on his page.

During dinner, he shoveled food into his mouth as quickly as possible. As soon as he was done, he cut off his father’s senior year reminisces and excused himself back to his room. He had meant to check up on the number of his likes, but Jean rang him up for a couple for a couple of rounds of Halo with Marco and Thomas. He even managed to convince Armin to join, which was a feat considering he barely spent any time on anything other than applications these days. Eren couldn’t help but feel butthurt that it was _Jean_ who got his best friend to chill. 

So Eren put off checking Facebook, telling himself that the wait would be worth it, that the denial would be sweet and satisfying, and that hadn’t Eren always been into denial…of other bodily pleasures

At 11:20, Armin announced that he was going to bed, but the other four boys played on. Then at 11:48, Eren decided, with a sniff of his pits and frowning, that he really shouldn’t keep putting off that shower and hung up. When he stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist, he noticed his phone lighting up with Facebook notifications and texts from Armin and Mikasa. 

**CocoArminNut**

Don’t tell Mikasa I told you to add strange people!

**CocoArminNut**

She’s gonna kill me

**CocoArminNut**

Dude check ur FB 

**TheBris**

Eren, who are these strangers commenting on your photo?

**TheBris**

How many times have I warned you about stranger danger

**TheBris**

Change the privacy setting so these creeps can’t find you anymore 

**TheBris**

They’re so old! Eren they are pedophiles. PEDOPHILES

**TheBris**

Eren 

**TheBris**

EREN???

Eren rolled his eyes at Mikasa’s overprotectiveness. He was confused: what was going on? He tapped the trackpad of his laptop, bringing the device out of its snooze and logged back into Facebook. 

“Holy…shit…” he gasped, seeing a total of twenty-six friend requests, thirty notifications, and nine message alerts. “The hell happened…”

Twenty people responded to his sent requests, with the remaining six as new requests from Hange Zoë, Petral Ral, and four others. The thirty notifications, however, were more bewildering, all generated from comments on his profile picture. 

“Holy…shit…” He said again. He had a hundred and seventeen likes on his photo! Opening a new tab, he quickly pulled up Jean’s page; the Horse only had a hundred and nine. 

“I did it,” he murmured, “I beat the Horse.” 

He scrolled through the comments and found the source of the sudden influx of comments: Isabel Magnolia’s comment. As he read the conversation thread, his eyebrows travelled upwards and nearly disappeared into his hairline. 

**Isabel Magnolia commented:**

Cute Pic! <3

**Farlan Church commented:**

Babe, we just got engaged. who’s this stud ur chatting up?

**Farlan Church commented:**

u looking for a side hoe already?

**Isabel Magnolia commented:**

chill bae <3 he’s cute but @Levi Ackerman called dibs on him. Stop being jelly hubby!

**Farlan Church commented:**

Whatttttt?????? Izzy are you high? did you eat @Hange Zoë’s brownies again? 

**Farlan Church commented:**

btw u luv ur jelly hubby

**Isabel Magnolia commented:**

6th grade remember? <3 you 

**Farlan Church commented:**

LMAOOOOOO this is that kid? 

**Farlan Church commented:**

@Levi Ackerman Time did wonders for your brat ;) 

**Levi Ackerman commented:**

@Isabel Magnolia @Farlan Church Get off the internet and start planning your wedding shitheads. Stop stalking underaged brats

**Isabel Magnolia commented:**

Awwwww but big bro I like looking at eye candy lol. btw you know we’re gonna do everything at the last second anyways ;) 

**Isabel Magnolia commented:**

@Eren Jaëger you have really pretty eyes!!!!!

**Isabel Magnolia commented:**

@Eren Jaëger you’re welcomed to join me and my hubby for a threesome if you’re as cute as your pic ;)

**Farlan Church commented:**

LOOOOOOL BABE!!!! tbh your jelly hubby approves

**Isabel Magnolia commented:**

@Levi Ackerman jealous? ;) 

**Levi Ackerman commented:**

His face screams “Bad Guy”. He looks like a thug. Pretty sure I’ve seen hardened criminals with eyes like his. I really hope I won’t stop by your place sometime and walk into a double homicide. If you’re gonna die from a threesome you can do better than this stupid virgin brat.

**Farlan Church commented:**

Yup, he’s definitely jelly

**Levi Ackerman commented:**

Fuck you.

**Farlan Church commented:**

Nah, it’s only Izzy for me. Unless @Eren Jaëger wants to join lol 

**Hange Zoë posted a picture**

**Hange Zoë commented:**

OMG WITTLE RAVIOLI IS THIS HIM???????????????????? OMG FACEBOOK IS LIKE CUPID REINCARNATED!!!!!!

**Hange Zoë commented:**

he’s sooooooooooooo cute!!! prolly got people lining up to suck his dick!!! good thing you called dibs all the way back then!!!!!!!!

Eren leaned back against his chair and stared at the ceiling. That comment thread had gotten weird…fast. Somehow his ploy to one-up Jean has gotten him an invitation to spice up some newlyweds’ marriage (why would they possibly need _that_ sort of thing so early on?), enough compliments to feed his ego until the next week (though the latter ones felt like sexual harassment), as well as lashes to his ego by the asshole named Levi Ackerman. 

Who did this dick think he was? Eren bristled. The fact that the guy typed out his insults in complete sentences and perfect grammar really got on his nerves. The asshole didn’t even like Eren’s photo! 

“What a jerk.” Eren muttered. Eren didn’t encounter internet trolls much online, but he had an inkling that this Levi Ackerman character was the real deal; he would be the type to squat under a bridge and make fun of Dora the Explorer’s haircut. 

Armin and Mikasa often complained that Eren’s thoughts had no logical process, and he had to agree when the next thing he thought of was _what if_ Levi Ackerman was actually a short miserable creature with yellow skin and an orange beard? But a survey of the man’s profile showed the photos and most other private information to be blocked. Mikasa would have been proud of this guy’s stranger danger awareness. 

“Levi Ackerman,” Eren frowned, trying to place the name. It sounded familiar, and fittinglyright alongside ‘Isabel Magnolia’ and ‘Farlan Church’ the way the trio of ‘Kirk’, ‘Spock’, and ‘McCoy’ did in the Trek universe. A classmate of the married couple, perhaps?

Then he saw Hange Zoë’s photo.

It was a saved Snapchat of an old, tattered photograph, with the original caption as: _an even shorter shorty!_ Captured in the photo were two boys sitting at desk: one messy-haired brunette, who couldn’t have been older than six, who laughed easily with infantile joy, sea-green eyes brimming with curiosity and adoration as he looked at the other boy. The other boy looked a few years older, and couldn’t have been more different than the little brunette: he had dark, unkept hair and sullen grey eyes, his pale face thin and pinched. But the corner of his mouth was angled upwards, an expression of gentle fondness apparent in the grey eyes, as he watched the younger boy. The brunette held in his arms a plushie of the Rogue Titan from the cartoon that was popular back in those days, and the raven held open a book for the two of them to read together. The title was: _Go the F_ck to Sleep._

Eren stared at the photo for the longest time. Then his eyes darted to his bookshelf, where he was pretty sure he still had that copy of _Go the F_ck to Sleep,_ then to the six plushies on his desk, where the Rogue Titan was unmistakably missing. Then it clicked.

“Right… _him_.”


	2. January

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Levi from the past and the Levi cussing him out on Facebook are quite different...

When Eren was in junior kindergarten, he hated how small the kindergarteners’ playpen was, and spent most of his time with Armin and Mikasa brainstorming ways to break out of the walls trapping them like cattle and join the Big Kids on the Big Playground. 

The plan the five-year-olds finally settled on was this: they would steal and hide Sasha Blouse’s lunch box, guaranteeing a full-blown psychotic rage thrown by said girl, which would keep the teacher occupied long enough for the three kids to slip through the door of the pen (which Eren learned to unlock with a sharpened pencil). 

But when the big day finally came, Armin the Empath had burst into tears the moment Sasha’s lip began trembling, and surly old Mrs. Moss caught Mikasa by the tail of her skirt as the siblings slipped past the pen. 

“Run Eren!” Her final words had been (before being put in time-out). “Be free!”

Eren also started crying. “I will remember you!” He shouted back before running off at top speed. 

He kept running until he could no longer hear Mrs. Moss’ screechy calls, past the Big Playground and into the small patch of woods behind. For a moment he reveled in his newfound freedom: he was in The Woods! This was way cooler than the Big Playground; he would surely become King of the Magic Circle once he finished his time-out. But his elation wore off the moment he tripped over a rock and fell sprawled out onto the dirty and rocky woodland floor. Later he would claim that the cuts and bruises on his body were from swimming in money, but the moment after the fall, Eren realized that falling hurt and there was no adult around to kiss his boo boos better. 

So he did what a kid his age did best. He cried. 

“Fucking pipsqueak, you’re gonna give me away!” He heard an angry growl. 

Curiosity as to the owner of the voice ceased his waterworks and he blinked his vision clear to stare at the other person in the woods. It was an Older Boy. The kid who looked not much older than Eren was sitting on a dirty, faded towel with Donald Duck’s face on it, scowling as he took a drag from a small cigarette. He had long, unkept oily hair that fell into his face at awkward, jagged angles. His body was thin, knees knobbly and ankles skinny, and looked even more so as his black T-shirt looked two sizes too big, and was almost long enough to obscure those knobbly knees. His face was also thin and much too pale against the darkness of his hair, but little Eren couldn’t help but think that if the boy took baths like his mommy said good boys should do, he would look like a woodland fairy. 

He definitely had the eyes to be a fairy, Eren thought. The Older Boy’s beautiful light-grey eyes gave him a faraway look — that was until he fixed Eren with a glare so intense that those greys had the little boy pinned to his spot on the ground. 

The Older Boy coughed as he took a drag of his cigarette. 

Eren blinked. “My daddy says cancer sticks are no good. You have to put it in the garbage! But Mrs. Moss says we have to recycle, like, _everything._ ” He gave the Older Boy the most patronizing look a five-year-old could give. 

The Older Boy rolled his eyes. “Your daddy can go suck my dick and Mrs. Fungus can kiss my ass.”

Eren gasped. “You said two bad words! You’re in trouble, mister. Now you get time-out and no play time!”

“Fucking brat,” he heard the Older Boy mutter. “Kid, fuck off. The longer you’re here, more likely I’m gonna get caught. If I do,” Eren whimpered as the grey eyes flashed dangerously. He felt a pressure on his bladder and squeezed his thighs together. “You’re gonna be getting more than just cuts and scrapes. You’ll be coming to school with your arm in a cast.” 

Rather than scaring the kindergartener, Eren was excited. “So my friends can sign it!” He cheered and his companion sighed and flicked his cigarette.

“But,” Eren frowned. “You’re still gonna get in trouble. Mrs. Moss won’t let you sit in the magic circle.”

The Older Boy stared at him for a long time. “Wait…how old do you think I am?”

“Ummm…kindergarten, like me!” Eren beamed and jumped up, ignoring the stinging of his wounds.

The Older Boy kept staring, though his lip twitched up and he looked amused. “Brat, I’m in the sixth grade. Graduating soon.”

The kindergartener was confused. “But you’re so short!”

The Older Boy’s amusement was gone in an instant, and his gun-metal grey eyes threatened horrors worse than visits to the dentist, the adult toilet, and the monster under Eren’s bed. Trembling, Eren burst into tears again just as his bladder finally gave out. 

“Shit!” The Older Boy cursed as he saw the yellow liquid trickle down Eren’s shorts. “Shut up, shut up! The teachers are gonna come!” 

Eren was not the only one out of his element there; the Older Boy seemed to have no idea on how to handle a crying preschooler. After rounds of shushing followed by an act of desperation — he managed to shove four fingers into Eren’s mouth before realizing it did nothing to muffle the sound — that left the Older Boy looking disgusted, he finally got the kid to calm down by threatening to tell everyone that he was a shitty bedwetter. Then, smushing the cigarette beneath his foot while wearing an expression of utmost disgust, he peeled down Eren’s soiled pants and underwear. Grumbling, he wrapped Eren’s exposed “Dirty ass” (“You said another bad word!”) with his towel and held Eren’s dirty clothes at arm’s length with a twig. 

And that was how the duo had shown up in a panicked Mrs. Moss’ classroom that afternoon: teary-eyed Eren with a towel around his waist, and a short and pissed off sixth-grader brandishing Eren’s urine drenched pants like a weapon. 

“Remember brat; you tattle and I’ll break your arm.” The Older Boy had murmured in Eren’s ear.

Eren had not yet mastered the art of using his Indoor Voice. “About what?” He asked loudly. “The cancer stick or asking Mrs. Moss to kiss your a-ass.” He giggled when he said the bad word.

The Older Boy’s voice was low and Eren squeeked and stepped backwards, letting the towel drop, exposing his privates. 

“You are so dead.” The Older Boy said and flipped off an indignant Mrs. Moss before scampering off.

“LEVI ACKERMAN. GET YOUR ASS TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE NOW!” Mrs. Moss screamed, but the sixth grader didn’t even look back as he raised his bird higher up. 

Heaving, she turned around to find Eren jumping about in glee, his little penis jiggling. He pointed at a chair that he had pushed a corner of the room. 

“Mrs. Moss you said a bad word! You need a time out!” 

And that was how Eren Jaëger first met Levi Ackerman. 

* * *

Despite how much fun Eren had had that day, when he got home for the weekend he was treated to the tale of one of Grisha’s patients: namely, a small boy the same age as Eren, who fell off the monkey bars and broke his arm. As he heard his father tell his mother how the boy had screamed and screamed when they set the bone in place, how the boy was gasping for air amidst his tears, Eren realized with dawning apprehension that breaking an arm for the sake of getting his friends to sign his cast was _not_ worth it.

The Older Boy — Levi Ackerman — was out to get him. And Eren needed a survival plan. 

He stayed inside during recess on Monday, hiding under a small fort he made out of blankets for nappy time. This protected him from the Older Boy. For one day.

The next day, Mrs. Moss forcibly dragged Eren out of the kindergarten playpen, declaring that the class was going on a ‘field trip’ to the Big Playground. There, the lady promptly sat her fat bottom on a bench yards away from the playground, pulled out a book, and left the children to fend for themselves in enemy territory. 

That was when Eren saw the Older Boy. He was with a girl with red pigtails and a blond boy, watching the playground and Eren felt goosebumps rise on his skin. 

“Hide me!” He told Armin and Mikasa, and the three climbed onto the play structure, where Eren promptly crashed into Zeke Fritz. Zeke was also in the sixth grade and liked to expectorate chewed gum at Eren when he passed him in the halls. Bullying was (sadly) not uncommon on the playground, but usually the Big Kids just liked to make fun of the kindergarteners’ nappies or boo them for still liking Barbie. Zeke Fritz was different: Eren could cut and paste his school photo into the dictionary next to the word “Bully” and Merriam-Webster would accept it as a legitimate definition.

Mrs. Moss always said that bullies are only mean because they were bullied themselves, and are unhappy at home. By that logic, Eren wisely surmised, Zeke must have gotten kissed by too many girls with cooties at recess and was forced to eat Brussel sprouts by his mother. But that couldn’t be true; not unlike Levi Ackerman, Zeke hung with a pack of sixth grade boys, puffing away at cigarettes they had lifted off the old drunken janitor, and his mother showed up promptly each lunch time to bring him McDonald’s or KFC. Yum.

Zeke was just plain mean, and Eren was his personal project. Eren never did know why the guy had it out for him like that; the last time Zeke had tripped him in the halls, Carla had been a walking natural disaster, leaving a trail of destruction through the house, adamant about speaking to Dina Fritz before Grisha could talk her out of it (“Boys will be boys, roughhousing makes them become men.”). Carla had been convinced, and halted her investigation, and Eren never did find out why Zeke had it out for him or why his momma would be alright with his behavior after so many phone calls home from teachers.

“Hullo Zeke.” Eren said dully. 

Zeke spread his body out on the play structure, trying to take up as much space as possible. 

“Babies aren’t allowed here, Jaëger. Go back to wetting your nappies.”

Eren narrowed his eyes, feeling much braver than he should; or rather, more scared of the broken arm Levi Ackerman was going to give him than another wad of gum stuck in his hair. 

“Go back to sucking d-dick Zeke!” Eren did his best impression of Older Boy Ackerman. 

Zeke towered over the kindergartener, cracking his knuckles. No one suggested that he suck the root. _No one._ Especially not Eren Jaëger; not after what his momma told him about that entire family. 

Mrs. Moss looked up a minute later when she heard screams and cries. Armin was crying loudly as Mikasa tumbled backwards down the slide, screaming through her tears, the other children all either crying along or standing petrified. Just as Mrs. Moss rose to her feet, Zeke, who had poor little Eren by the front of his shirt, shoved the little boy too hard, and then Eren was falling off the play structure. 

Mrs. Moss was also screaming. As he flapped his arms and legs uselessly in midair, Eren could only think of Humpty Dumpty, and what would rhyme with Eren Jaëger in a nursery rhyme. Would there be even enough of him left to put in a cast for his classmates to sign? 

Then he felt someone grab his wrist. There was a resounding _crack!_ And Eren screamed as his armed burned in agony. 

“Oh shit…”

Blinking tears out of his vision, Eren looked up to see none other than Levi Ackerman, clutching his now agonizingly numb right arm, his grey eyes wide and face even paler. 

“Pull him up!” Mrs. Moss screamed and for once, the sixth grader complied with an adult as he dragged Eren back onto the platform. When he finally released the broken limb, it dangled uselessly to the little boy’s side, the action reigniting the pain. 

Mrs. Moss huffed as she climbed up the play structure. Zeke yelled profanities as the red-haired girl slapped him across the face while her blonde friend held him in a headlock. Eren cried as Levi Ackerman’s arms lowered hesitantly around him. 

“S-Shit…I didn’t mean to…actually break your arm…” Levi’s voice was a mixture of guilt and disbelief.

And that was how Eren met Levi Ackerman for the second time. 

* * *

There was neither urine nor tears the third time the two boys found themselves in close vicinity.

The kindergarteners were to be assigned reading buddies — basically, a non-related nice older sibling wannabe who would pamper you in the hallways with pats on the head and the Holy Grail that was recognition from a Big Kid, while muttering to their friend, “ _That_ one there; I got the cute kid.” 

(Eren the high schooler would have butchered this innocent role by describing it as a pre-pubescent sugar daddy who might give his baby the occasional lollipop. Oh yes, talk Mother Goose to me, baby. )

Eren was excited. The idea of having a reading buddy distracted him from the pain of his broken arm (that and the twenty something signatures he had collected on his cast). He certainly did not expect to see Levi Ackerman trailing behind the class of sixth graders, looking like he’d rather be kissing the principal’s ass instead of being there. 

The whispering began immediately, the little kindergarteners whispering to each other about which buddy they wanted: who would be the nicest, the prettiest, the smartest — and on the flip side: the meanest, the scariest _and,_ for some reason, the shortest (“Whoa, that sixth grader back there is our height!”). 

Levi Ackerman was judged the unanimous winner of the last three titles.

So when the kindergarteners shyly wandered up to the big kids, nervously avoiding the mean-looking raven, eyes went wide and tiny hands clasped to mouths as Eren marched straight up to the short and scary sixth grader and proffered his injured arm. 

Levi arched a brow. “I apologized already, brat.” 

“You have to sign it.” Eren said. 

So Levi signed the cast, then ignoring the gaping stares directed at them, the two boys sat down on the Magic Carpet as Eren handed his reading buddy the new books he borrowed from the library.

Levi flinched at the first title. “Dr. Seuss’ Cat in the Hat. God I hate these books.” 

Eren cocked his head. “Why?”

He jabbed a thumb at the cover in disgust. “These pictures are fucking creepy. That cat looks like a cross between some rich old pot-bellied judge and the Grinch. Fuck, Seuss came up with the ugly green thing too. It’s face looks like it’s trying to decide between frying your guts or sautéing your balls.” 

He gave the second book an even more disgusted look. 

“‘Green Eggs and Ham’. I bet you, brat, the Grinch shat out the green eggs. You’re not missing out on much: kid, this one’s basically about this dealer who thinks ‘No means Yes’ and pressures this dude into ingesting Grinch crap. In the end the dude buys in and eats it and probably got addicted.” He rolled his eyes. “The title of this should be ‘Drug Dealer 101: How to Build a Customer Base’.”

Now that Levi pointed it out, Eren did find the pictures of creepy little critters a bit disturbing. He wrinkled his nose at the image of the mean old Grinch popping eggs out of his rump. Mrs. Moss and his daddy always said that drugs were bad, so Levi warning him about the dangers of the book was a good thing. 

_Levi is so smart!_ Eren thought giddily. 

“You said the F-word.”

“Brat, shut it before I break your other arm — I’ll actually do it. Now, if you’re one of those horror shit aficionados, you might as well start reading Stephen King.” Levi looked thoughtful. “I think King wrote a book about a creepy cat too. It’s what we read in grade six; it’s much cooler than this shit.” 

Eren had no idea who Stephen King was and thought ‘aficionado’ was a type of pasta like ‘alfredo’ or ‘fettuccine’, but the prospect of reading a Big Kid book had him bobbing up and down in excitement.

Having Levi as a reading buddy was fun: he always chose the best and coolest books. Eren even enjoyed how Levi retold the ones he didn’t deem worth reading, translating otherwise bland stories into hilarious summaries. While the other kids were reading _Corduroy_ and _Rainbow Fish,_ Levi found Eren interesting books like _The Night Dad Went to Jail_ and _My First Cavity Search._ Eren especially enjoyed _Where Willy Went._ Levi had read him the first three books in the _Harry Potter_ series and they got halfway through a tattered copy of Stephen King’s _Pet Sematary_ (which Levi nicked from his Uncle Kenny’s bookshelf) before Mrs. Moss intervened and lectured Levi on what was age-appropriate for Eren (“You shouldn’t be reading this either, Levi!”).

Eren loved reading buddy time; he loved it so much that he refused to let it end. Reading buddy time was always followed by naptime, the interval between which Eren would attach himself to Levi like a barnacle, and become fussy when the teacher finally pry Levi free. To stop Eren from crying and waking the other children, Levi would stay until Eren had fallen asleep holding his Rogue Titan plushie before taking his leave. 

To Eren, Levi really was the best. 

While he didn’t lavish Eren with attention or constantly tell Isabel Magnolia and Farlan Church how cute Eren was, he would give the younger boy a fond look whenever Eren would run up to him excitedly in the hallway, tilt his chin up with a finger before giving him a firm pat on the head. Levi also stood up to Eren’s bullies: when Zeke Fritz stole the Beast Titan plushie from the set Carla had bought him, Levi had glared bullets into Zeke’s skull, making the other boy shake in his boots, before chasing him around the playground and pushing him into a puddle of mud. Though the Beast Titan was never recovered, Eren was smiling again through his tears when he saw Zeke limp his way into the restroom to wash mud off his face. 

He also had the best sense of humor. The reading session before the Christmas break that year, the sixth graders were asked to bring their kindergarten buddies a book as a present. Eren thought Levi had forgotten about it when he had yet to receive anything by the end of the period but when he threw his usual tantrum, not wanting Levi to leave, the older boy sighed before shoving a book under his nose. 

“Eren,” he said warningly. 

The book was titled: _Go the F_uck to Sleep._

Eren obediently went the fuck to sleep.

* * *

 

That Christmas when Carla told her son to write to Santa, Eren had three wishes.

One: for the new Attack on Titan Lego Set at Walmart.

Two: for Zeke Fritz to return the Beast Titan plushie and get non-stop explosive diarrhea.

And Three: for Levi to be his reading buddy forever. 

* * *

He did get the Lego set and Zeke had caught bronchitis over the winter break (the Beast Titan was still missing though), but when the first reading session came around in the miserable, rainy January, Levi was missing.

“Levi’s not feeling well, Eren,” Isabel Magnolia had said kindly as the boy stared at her blankly. “His…uh, friend, just came to talk to him in our classroom so today I’ll read to both you and Connie, is that alright?”

“No!” Eren shouted. “I want Levi!”

Grabbing his Rogue Titan plushie, Eren ran out of the classroom, Isabel’s protests and Mrs. Moss’ weak mutter of ‘Not again!’ falling deaf on his ears. 

Levi wasn’t in his classroom, the principal’s office, or by the atrium where parents usually talked to their children during school hours. With a sudden burst of courage, Eren raced out of the school’s doors, and searched the playgrounds, calling Levi’s name, shivering as he ran outside without his jacket.

Where could he be?

Eren looked around. 

His eyes landed on the patch of woods. 

“Levi?” He called when he entered the woods. The Christmas snow had all but melted, making Eren’s sneakers soggy as he came upon the older boy sitting on the dirty ground, a lit cigarette in his hand. 

“Go away Eren.” His words were firm, but his voice shook. 

The cigarette in his hand was shaking, the butt colliding with Levi’s nose and upper lip before being hastily stuck into his mouth. 

Eren padded quietly to Levi’s side and sat down on the dirty woodland ground, looking at the boy attentively as though Levi was about to read him a story. The older boy did not give any hint that he acknowledged Eren’s actions, but simply exhaled a shaky breath of smoke, something that sounded like a sob escaping from his mouth before he jammed the cigarette back in, muffling the sound.

“Levi?” 

Eren’s eyes were wide as he took in the raven-haired boy’s appearance. Levi’s clothes were wrinkled and askew, his black sweater dangling off one shoulder where a purplish bruise was forming. But before Eren could look at his face or lower on his body, a cold trembling and clammy hand covered his eyes.

“Don’t see me like this, Eren. Don’t remember me like this.” 

He couldn’t see Levi, but he could hear him. He could hear the heartbreaking little sobs that pierced the serenity of the woods, the sniffles and gasps as the older boy tried to reign in his emotions. He couldn’t see, but the theater in his mind projected the dismal film of a small, distraught boy, something within him detrimentally tarnished by things worse than visits to the dentist, worse than the adult toilet, worse than any monster that lived under Eren’s bed.

What he saw in his mind, what he heard beside him, _what was happening_ , it was wrong. Levi wasn’t supposed to cry like he was a vulnerable ragdoll at the hands of this sadistic whore of a universe; he was snarky, strong, and invincible. He was Eren’s hero. What was he up against, to make him look so defeated?

“Levi?” Eren asked softly. “What types of monsters live under your bed?”

Levi chuckled through his sobs. “I-Interesting way of p-putting it, brat. He’s ugly, selfish, a total dick, and his name is Dimo Reeves. Not that you would know who he is at your age.” He paused, and then his voice came out quieter. “It’s more like…he lived under my mom’s bed.”

“Lived?” Eren smiled. “That means he’s gone now, Levi! You and your momma are gonna be A-okay!”

But Levi only cried louder. “No, _s-she’s_ gone. The bastard hurt her, Eren. God, why the fuck am I telling kid in diapers this?”

Eren decided it was wise not to point out that Levi said another bad word. It didn’t seem right to say that when Levi and his momma were suffering so much at the hands of this monster. Whatever he did, it must have been terrible.

“Did he give your mom cooties, Levi?” Eren asked, face twisting in seriousness. 

Hitch Dryes had given Eren cooties during recess. Eren had never felt so yucky in his life. Levi’s momma must also feel yucky because of this monster. 

Levi laughed again, and Eren smiled despite wanting to move Levi’s hand away from his eyes, so he could confirm that the older boy wasn’t sad anymore. 

“Levi, I won’t look. I promise.” Eren said as he moved Levi’s hand away. He kept his eyes shut extra tight, so that the older boy knew he could trust him. 

Blinded, Eren thrust his Rogue Titan plushie before him, hoping that it was in Levi’s direction. 

“Here,” he said. 

“What?” Levi sounded confused. 

“You can have Rogue!” Eren smiled. “Hugging him always makes me feel better, so you can keep him and always hug him when the monster comes back!”

Levi was quiet. “He’s your favorite, Eren. You don’t have to try so hard to make me happy.” 

Eren shook his head rapidly, still keeping his eyes closed. “You’re also my favorite, Levi, so it’s okay. Besides, you got me that really nice book for Christmas! My mommy made a funny face when she saw it.” 

And Levi laughed again. It was truly beautiful; a joyous sound born of gut-wrenching misery, tinged with sadness but still brimming with life and hope. Levi’s laugh echoed in the woods and Eren really, really, _really_ wanted to open his eyes and look. 

He felt the Rogue Titan being gently taken out of his hands. Then Levi’s finger was under his chin, tilting his head up. Next came the familiar firm pat. But then, there was a wet softness on his forehead, leaving warmth in that spot before the pair of lips broke away from his skin. 

“Thank you, Eren.” Levi breathed and Eren heard rustling as Levi got up. “Now, be a good boy and count to ten, then open your eyes.”

Eren did as he was told. When he opened his eyes, he found himself alone, sitting on the woodland ground, the only evidence of Levi Ackerman’s presence being the cigarette tossed amongst the fallen foliage, exhaling its last fumes and flickering away its final embers of life. 

* * *

Eren never did see Levi again at school.

At the next reading session, Eren was gently informed by Mrs. Moss that Levi had moved, and that Isabel would be taking care of both him and Connie for the rest of the year. 

Eren cried and threw up, but eventually, he was alright again. Perhaps it was the short attention span of his child’s mind that aided his quick recovery, or that he had simply cried Levi out of his system like a particularly nasty bug, and rebooted the system; but the elasticity of a child to rebound from upsetting events is particularly strong, and Eren was able to proceed along to grade school, then middle school, then all the way up to his senior year of high school without the name Levi Ackerman ever making another rendezvous with his memory.

Well, it seemed that a jog down memory lane would do some good for Eren Jaeger. He wasn’t sure if he agreed with Hange Zoe that it was ‘cupid reincarnated’, but thank god for Facebook. 

* * *

The first message from Levi Ackerman had come in at 9:23 PM.

 

**Levi Ackerman**

Delete Hange’s photo.

Actually delete the entire comment thread.

Brat fucking reply. 

I’m asking you politely asswipe. This post is damaging to my reputation and invading my privacy. I do not appreciate photos or information of myself posted in public space. If you don’t remove it in the next 24 hours I will report you to Facebook and take legal action. 

Fucking leaky-bladder brat, that broken arm didn’t teach you anything? I really should’ve broken the other one. Useless arms might’ve stopped you from posting this trash.

 

Jesus fucking Christ. What was up this guy’s ass? _Well, I guess in a way he hasn’t changed much,_ Eren thought, _guess it was written in the stars for him to become a grade-A asshole._

And the guy was STILL typing in complete sentences; perfect grammar. Eren’s nails dug into his palms, irritation brewing inside. Yes, he had pleasant memories of the guy (discounting the broken arm, soiled pants, threats and anxiety) and whatever lingering affection he could possibly conjure for the guy after twelve years urged him to see some good in the messages. But Eren wasn’t known for his short-temper for no reason; and Levi Ackerman’s public insults and threats of legal action outweighed his ‘polite messages’ (“Yeah right, cuz calling me an asswipe is polite.”) by just a baby whale or two.

“Fuck you, internet troll,” Eren growled as he typed out a response. “Bet you’re still the size of a troll.” 

 

**Eren Jaëger**

since u asked soooooooo politely, here’s my answer:

NO

btw broken arms and pissed pants don’t scare me anymore

grow some fucking balls troll. u need to up your blackmail game

 

The screen displayed the words: _Levi Ackerman is typing…_ Then his reply came almost instantly, as though the man had been waiting all night for a response.

 

**Levi Ackerman**

Surprised they don’t scare you. Most first-graders find them scary. You’re in the first grade, right? At least your grammar skills are. 

My gonads work just fine, thank you very much. You should get yours removed, just so stupidity doesn’t become hereditary. 

Other than removing that post, the best thing you can do for humanity is not contributing to the next gene pool.

 

“Gonads?” Eren made a face, remembering disturbing images from his biology class. “Who the hell calls their balls ‘gonads’? Fucking hell, he’s calling me stupid!” All fondness for Older Man gone, Eren cracked his knuckles as his eyes darkened, warning of an inner tropical storm. 

 

**Eren Jaëger**

Fuck you old man. 

just so u know I can land any uni I want with my grades

my kids will be lucky SOBs to get my genes

oh

I see. you’re jealous. ur balls aren’t working, right?

you’re prolly not getting enough testosterone

if u were, you wouldn’t still be the size of a troll

stop calling me brat

 

**Levi Ackerman**

I’m not that bored and you’re not that lucky. I don't do charity work, brat. 

If you’re bragging about your grades like an entitled brat, then I will call you a brat. 

Look, I really don’t have time to get into this shit with you stupid brat. Just take down the stupid ass post. 

 

Eren fumed at the first jab. He made to reply snarkily, but then thought better of it; it was late and he was tired — he had school in the morning and doubted that a furious sass battle against the Grumpy Old Troll was a good enough excuse for Coach Shadis if he fell asleep during soccer practice. 

 

**Eren Jaëger**

Why do you want to take it down so badly? 

 

**Levi Ackerman**

Why won’t you take it down? 

 

The answer to that should be obvious to anyone who owned a social media account (cuz it’s getting attention, duh), but considering how blank Levi’s was, Eren doubted the man comprehended, and really didn’t want to explain to this dickhead that he was desperately fishing through past friends for likes. 

So he stuck with a safe explanation. 

 

**Eren Jaëger**

made a bet with a friend to see who gets more likes

I’m winning

$20 is awesome

 

**Levi Ackerman**

I’ll pay you $100 if you service me by taking it down. 

 

The way Levi phrased his words was odd and insinuative, and reminded Eren of a comparison he had once made between reading buddies and sugar daddies — it was probably just the offering of cash and the word ‘service’. Eren shuddered. 

 

**Eren Jaëger**

……………

 

**Levi Ackerman**

What brat? 

 

**Eren Jaëger**

When did you turn into a creepy sugar dispenser? 

Gross man, offering money for “service” 

 

Levi had ‘seen’ the message, but there was no response. And then it came. 

 

**Levi Ackerman**

Eren. Fucking. Jaëger.

What the hell are you implying. 

If it’s what I think it is, I’ll have you know I have no problem adding libel and defamation to my lawsuit. 

 

Feeling slightly nervous and antsy at the prospect of being sued, Eren tried his best to reign in his sassiness. Levi wouldn’t actually sue him, right? 

 

**Eren Jaëger**

Sorry 

I take that back

You’re more like a salt shaker

You’re salty as fuck 

 

“Why the fuck am I giving him more reasons to sue me?” Eren groaned at the last line he had sent. 

 

**Levi Ackerman**

And you’re a fucking brat who doesn’t know what’s good for him. 

Last chance Jaëger. Take it down. 

If you have enough brain cells to think for yourself about what’s good for you, you’d do it. 

 

_Think for yourself…what’s good for you…_

There was an unpleasant feeling at the back of his throat. It was like he was mid-hurling and drowning at this same time, unable to swallow or spit. Levi’s words were probably thrown together casually, nothing particularly mean-spirited behind them other than the obvious intent to have Eren comply. But unfortunately, he had chosen a combination of words that hit just a tad bit too close to home for Eren.

“I-I _can_ do that.” Eren was shaking, eyes wide as he stared at the last message. “I know w-what’s best for me!”

_Oh really, Eren? So riling up an already lawsuit-pressing man is the best for you? What would Grisha say? What’s the Marley Medical School equivalent to this situation? Do you REALLY know what’s best for yourself? Face it Eren, you’ve never made a good choice for yourself in your life. Don’t bother starting now. Everything’s written down in Daddy’s Life-Outside-of-Testes Guide to Life. Apologize to the guy and delete the post, just like the manual says you should do._

He tried telling himself that it wasn’t true; he had made good decisions before, that keeping his friendship with Jean had been a good choice, that he was happy because of it. Then he thought of how tired he was from scooping water out of his tiny raft, how tired he was from receiving Grisha’s cold shoulder for his decision.

Was it really worth it? If he had Grisha’s favor instead of Jean’s, wouldn’t his life be easier? Was that the decision that was ‘good for him’? 

_Yes,_ he told himself firmly, _yes it was_. He refused to believe otherwise. 

He typed out his response. 

 

**Eren Jaëger**

Or what? 

Told u I’m not afraid of broken arms anymore. 

How else you gonna threaten me?

Cry your eyes out and choke to death on a cigarette? Run home crying to your mommy? Oh right, that ship sailed long ago, didn’t it? 

that why you’re so bitter?

why don’t you go be a good little midget troll and sit your ass outside and complain to some other little kid about your mommy issues? 

 

Satisfied, Eren leaned back into his chair with a triumphant smirk. That should shut up the nasty little troll. 

He watched as the ‘Seen’ showed up at the bottom of the chat. Then the green circle next to Levi Ackerman’s name was gone, and the bastard went offline. Eren gave himself a high five before closing his laptop and tuning in for the night. All this he did while ignoring a discomfort at the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite place his finger on. 

Just before he succumbed to slumber, a vision flooded his minds eye: a vision of a wet, dirty patch of woods, the coldness of fingers over his eyes, and the sobs of a broken child. 

Just as sleep took him, he heard the phantom child whisper: 

_“Don’t see me like this, Eren. Don’t remember me like this.”_

In the morning, he woke up feeling yucky, as though he was still that petulant child who terrified of catching cooties from girls. Then, he bent over the side of his mattress to look under his bed. 

There were no monsters. 

But there was just enough room for monsters to move back in.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate all kudos/comments/subscriptions sent my way! So thanks!
> 
> Next chapter will be in Levi's POV


	3. Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a day of shitty news and people, Levi wraps things up with something nice.

The whore named Insomnia was a regular bedmate of his. Normally he tolerated her presence and even let her stay till morning, letting her leave dark love marks under his eyes. But given his mood before bed, and the fact that the first human contact he had that morning ranked first to third place on his ‘Shitty People to Avoid’ list, Levi Ackerman wished that he had downed a jar of sleeping pills. Screw Isomnia and her womanly wiles; he could really have used sleep last night — and he liked dick a whole lot better. 

He had woken up to a maniacally grinning Hange looming over him (and he will insist to the day of his death that the sound that escaped him was nothing short of manly). The crazy woman trailed his heels around his house, serving as an unfortunate loud reminder that he should replace his locks. He tried his best to tune out her excited babbles and wagging eyebrows as he shut the bathroom door in her face took his morning shit. He only managed to beat her down enough so that she couldn’t follow him into his car (he shuddered to imagine being trapped in a confined space with her while she opened _that_ can of worms) and sped off. 

At the office, he spat out his coffee in the extremely unamused face of Nile Dok when via email, Shitty Eyebrows informed them that they would be put jointly in-charge of the new merger. Then, as Dok screamed himself hoarse while wiping his face, Levi flipped through the details of the merger. When he reached the last page, he set the papers down and walked away without a single word to Dok, a storm of gut-wrenching sickness brewing in his stomach. 

In the restroom, he tried to force up the meager crackers and black coffee he ingested that morning, but he only succeeded in burping loudly. Sighing, he straightened his suit and flushed the unused toilet. Gazing into the restroom mirror, he cringed at how pale he had gotten. 

_Pull yourself together, this is just business,_ he told himself as he scrubbed his hands with more force than necessary. _What do you expect will happen? Bastard probably won’t even remember you. Be professional._

Despite his pep talk, there was still a sour taste in his mouth; not that of coffee, crackers, or his attempts at throwing up though. The taste was familiar and unpleasant: an aftertaste of breathless doses of stale, wet cigarettes mixed with salty tears on a cold and rainy January day, huddled in the woods — 

“Petra, I’m taking my lunch break early.” He said as he walked by the ginger-haired woman. 

Petra, who was on a call, smiled at him and made the ‘okay’ gesture.

And strolling down the street, he ran into Shit to Avoid Numero Trois. 

“Fuck no, this isn’t happening now.” He moaned. When he heard the sirens and a vehicle pull up to him on the curb, he squeezed his eyes closed, praying for divine intervention to put him out of his misery. 

“Levi Ackerman, you are under arrest.” God, Levi hated that snarky gruff voice. 

“For fucking what, this time?” He snapped. 

The man stepped out of his cruiser, looking deep in thought. 

“Ah, right, for, uh…ya know what, Shorty boy, just get your ass over here.” Kenny Ackerman spun the handcuffs on a finger as he approached his nephew, grinning from ear to ear. 

Levi stared at him warily, previous ire forgotten with the arrival of an even greater annoyance. “What, not even going to think of a shitty bogus reason this time?” 

Kenny shrugged. “You wouldn’t talk to me if I don’t handcuff you. Now get over here so I can read you your Marina Rights.” 

“Don’t you mean ‘Miranda Rights’?” 

Kenny shrugged as he clicked the cuffs into place. “Eh, some bitch like that. Don’t remember every hooker I did.”

Resigned to his fate, Levi held out his hands and glared at his uncle. 

“Who the hell has shit for brains and let you become a cop?” Levi muttered as Kenny guided him into the backseat of the cruiser. “At least let me ride shotgun, you fucker.” 

“An old buddy of mine, Uri Reiss. He’s the commissioner now so he let me join.” Kenny chuckled as he waved to an elderly couple walking down the street. “Sorry Shorty, gotta keep the act realistic. Criminals don’t get to sit shotgun.” 

“Seriously, Kenny, you can’t keep arresting me. What if my boss sees this shit? Getting arrested isn’t winning me any promotions or a good reputation.” 

Kenny waved a hand. “It’s fine, it’s fine. What’s yer boss’ name again? Edgar? Edward? Edward Elric? _Edward Cullen?_ Yeah, that guy was there the last time I collared ya. He was very amused and — why _good morning_ , Mr. and Mrs. Simmons! Yes, beautiful morning for a stroll! I’m just taking my darling nephew here on a little ride! Kids, you know; they love cop cars — he’s been _begging_ me to let him play with the sirens — _vroom, vroom!_ We’re gonna go grab some brunch. Right, you have a _lovely_ day too!” 

Kenny grinned cheerily as the old lady blew him a kiss before leaving with her husband. 

“When you say we’re ‘grabbing brunch, ’” Levi snapped, “you mean _I’m_ buying _you_ brunch.”

Kenny laughed as he sat in the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Well you don’t have to. It’s just in your interest to, cause otherwise the cuffs aren’t comin’ off.” 

Any reasoning with Kenny was a waste of precious breath, and as Levi was already close to keeling over from fatigue, he kept his mouth shut. Kenny blasted the sirens and five minutes later they were parking in the Colossal Titan Diner down the block. Levi let Kenny lead him out of the car and into the restaurant. 

Their usual waitress, Nifa (no longer a stranger to the sight of one of her patrons in handcuffs) greeted them. 

“Welcome back to the Colossal Titan!” She chirped happily. “Mr. Ackerman and Mr. Ackerman, your usual table? And what has the younger Mr. Ackerman done this time?”

“Be related to him.” Levi’s glare prompted her to cut short the small talk and escort them to a table by the windows where Kenny freed his right hand and instead, cuffed the link to the chair — as always (“So you can’t run away, Shorty”). The restaurant’s regulars smiled and waved at them good-naturedly with amusement, already too used to seeing this charade, but Levi couldn’t help the annoyance that overcame him when he caught a table of newcomers (a family of four) staring at them in shock. 

He and Kenny sat in silence while Nifa brought them their usual orders, Levi tapping his foot impatiently. 

“Alright, what’s crawled up your ass this time, Shorty? Cause I know it ain’t no dong.” Kenny furrowed his brows as Nifa set in front of him his gourmet brunch set. “Seems the one you supposedly had ‘dibs’ on might be chumming it out with the newlyweds.” 

His grin turned Cheshire as Levi gritted his teeth at the conversation at hand. As he couldn’t leave with the cuff in place, he settled for glaring into his rice omelette, entertaining the notion that the intensity of his glare could enlarge the pores in the egg. 

“The hell are you doing on Facebook, old man.” Levi said as he picked up his fork and stabbed the omelette with his free hand. 

“Trost Police Station _is_ on social media, ya know.” Levi looked away in disgust as Kenny shoved an entire sunny-side up egg into his mouth, ketchup and saliva dripping out in murky drops. “They let Traute Cavern man the Twitter — I totally wanted that gig, way coolios — so I’m gunnin’ for the Facebook account.” 

Kenny finished chewing and swallowed. “But ‘nuff ‘bout that, let’s talk about you.” He pointed his fork at Levi and used that certain inflection that he used whenever the conversation at hand was not the main point, but rather, gateway verbal diarrhea, clearing the way to pop out the real shit he had in mind. And Levi had more than just an inkling about what Kenny was up to. 

“Sooooooo I was on Facebook yesterday…and, ha, _Eren Jaëger,_ huh? Isn’t that the kid whose arm you broke?” 

Levi groaned. “Kenny, I give you shit for constantly forgetting to take your shoes off at my place, but now I give you full permission to ransack my alcohol cabinet. You could use some more alcohol damage to your memory. Why the hell do you remember that shitty brat?”

Kenny guffawed. The waving fork now had a mini sausage impaled on it. 

“Why, Shorty? Maybe cause you came home that day and tried to draw him a Get-Well card but gave up half-way cause you suck at art?” 

Seriously, why the hell did Kenny’s brain remember only potential-Levi-blackmailing material? 

“Yeah, and then his mom was a freakin’ tornado of rage. _Carla_ , I think that’s her name. Hurricane Carla. Hit the Ackerman family of Shinganshina Town with wind speeds of 157 miles per hour.” Kenny snorted coffee out of his nose. “Not to mention, when you got that _book,_ gods, I’ve never seen her laugh so much back then, the look on Kuch —” His voice broke off, and the clump of egg and rice Levi had just put into his mouth turned to ash. 

Kenny cleared his throat and continued. “Anyways, you two were close, weren’t ya, Shorty? Heard from the teachers that you stayed late each time to put the kid to bed. Not to mention, how late you stayed up searching for er, _age-inappropriate_ books to read to that kid. Boy, you lost a lot of sleep back then, must be why you’re so short.” 

“Go fuck yourself.” 

“Don’t need to when I’ve got Marina and Miranda. Take yer own advice, Shorty.” 

An unpleasant silence loomed over their table, like a storm cloud soaked to the max, teasing a storm with the humidity. 

Kenny cleared his throat again. “So…do you think Jaëger’s going at it with them newlyweds? They all live in Shinganshina.” 

There was that inflection again. Kenny’s eyes looked a bit glassy, and Levi could almost hear his thoughts: _Abort! Abort! Gateway shit failed to transition onto the main turd! Gotta get this Shorty prepped and ready; otherwise forecasting a serious case of conversational constipation!_

“No.” He replied stoutly, then blinked in realization of the certainty in his voice. 

Why was he so sure of that? Knowing Isabel and Farlan, they were probably (95%) joking about that threesome. But what about Jaëger? Would he be that adventurous? If the person in question was sweet little 5-year-old Eren Jaëger, Levi wouldn’t have questioned his certainty; but 17-year-old Eren Jaëger was an enigma — or at least, however much of an enigma a person whose life is plastered on social media can be. Levi certainly did _not_ expect the amount of cheek he had gotten from the boy. 

Kenny started spearing his pancakes. “You’ve got loads of faith in those two friends of yours. Or are you giving up your ‘dibs’? Nah, can’t be, not with the way you were denying it in the comment threads.” 

“Kenny. Get. Off. Facebook.” 

Kenny stuck out his tongue. “Make me.” Seriously, this guy was a cop? 

“So you really have no interest in reconnecting with Jaëger? Last time I checked, the kid qualifies as ‘eye-candy’ and ‘twink’.” 

Levi groaned at the latter. 

It wasn’t as though the two words hadn’t popped up in his own head the previous night. 

With a barren profile like Levi’s, it was rare for there to be much activity on his wall (other than Hange tagging him in every single cleaning ad she found). Eren Jaëger’s friend request was like the first flag mankind had staked into the moon; the kid had no idea he was getting himself into five foot three inches of pure asshattery. Levi had recognized his name immediately, his mind automatically conjuring up flashbacks of the cheery kid with bright eyes, running up to him, hands outstretched. How the boy would latch himself onto Levi’s midriff and threaten to never let go. How a faint blush would overcome his cheeks when Levi patted his head. How the boy had sat with him that day in the woods —

Anyways, a brief scour (read: intense research/stalking) of Jaëger’s profile provided Levi with a crisp timeline of how the kid became a bigger kid (but still a brat), as well as enough jacking off material for him to cancel his Pornhub subscription. Jaëger was a photowhore, the type who posted high-angle selfies that showed off Colgate smiles, shiny hair, and just enough collarbone and chest to get heart rates up and eyes to linger a second too long. He was the type of social media user that Levi hated with a great passion, as he himself was a private person. Who the hell needed to know every single aspect of just another random person’s life? But concerning Jaëger…Levi had fingers crossed that he would go to the gym today and add to the photo album: _365 Days ‘till Ripped AF_. 

But now, after that horrible conversation that triggered a hookup with his home girl Insomnia, Levi had mixed feelings of touching his dick to the pictures of Jaëger’s lean and muscular body (he had been planning on using the one where he was at the beach — body glistening with beads of water and eyes more vibrant than the sea behind him). It would be a total downer if mid-orgasm, fantasies of Jaëger squirming beneath him behind his eyes, the brat’s final words suddenly popped up in his brain and he instantly went soft. 

Not to mention, the idea of masturbating to someone whom he had cherished for his childish innocence made him feel along the lines of…what was the term Jaëger had used? _Sugar dispenser,_ right. Some vile old man who tarnished good memories for five minutes of bliss. 

“If the kid ends up gutting them, I won’t go to the funeral.” Levi finally replied to his uncle. “Wouldn’t that be ironic: ‘in death, they forever part from their wedding day’. Classy one-liner for the tombstones right there.” 

“So their graves…will be in Shinganshina, right?” Kenny said pointedly, and Levi sighed, knowing that the main turd was upon them. 

“Hurry and spit it out, Kenny.” He was pushing the bits of omelette around on his plate now, appetite completely disintegrated. 

Kenny’s Adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he searched for the right words. “I —”

“— next we’ll be heading over to our business segment. Survey Corporation and the Reeves Company have announced today, plans for a merger. This collaboration is currently in the works and will be put into action immediately upon completion.” Another customer had chosen the most horrible timing to turn up the volume on the TV. Both Levi and Kenny swivelled their heads to stare at the broadcast. Levi dropped his fork, not wanting anything at all to do with his food anymore. “Our very own Isle Langnar is live right now with the president and CEO of the Reeves Company, Mr. Dimo Reeves. Isle?”

“Thank you, Trisha.” Isle Langnar said on the news. “Mr. Reeves, can we get a comment on your feelings at the moment?” 

Both Ackermans tensed as the reporter held her microphone to a bald, pot-bellied old man with sideburns, dressed in an expensive suit. The man’s leering smile was ugly under his thin mustache as he laughed heartily, a handkerchief in hand dabbing at his sweating brow. 

“Well, my dear! We at the Reeves Company are absolutely _delighted_ that the Survey Corps has decided to partner with us. Yes, yes, I heard that two of their most capable men were assigned to the merger taskforce! It will be an absolute _delight_ to meet these wonderful people and explore the possibilities — _and the profits,_ God bless not forgetting the profits! — that will come from this partnership!” 

Meeting Dimo Reeves and being expected to act professional around him was one ‘delight’ that Levi could live without. It would probably go along the lines of: _Hello Mr. Reeves, nice to meet you again. I’m Levi Ackerman, remember me? Remember my mom? My uncle? Nope, course not. But bet you’ll remember the profits I’ll bring you after the Q3 reports. Maybe that shit ton of cash would jog your memory. You sure you don’t remember my mom? Don’t you remember giving her cooties?_

“— and my family will be leaving tonight for a short visit to friends in the countryside. Haven’t seen those pals of mine for a long time! And I hear the countryside air would do good for my son! A growing boy cramped in the city is no good! We’ll be back to Trost in a week, fresh and ready to tackle this merger!” 

“Thank you, Mr. Reeves. Trisha, back to you.” Said Isle Langnar. 

As the news proceeded onto the sports section, the Ackermans simultaneously turned their heads back to face their meals. The anchor blabbed on about the game tonight — Trost Titans vs. Stohess Shifters — and the other customers continued with their conversations, but all of it sounded as though it had been put through a blender, and Levi’s ears were served a blend of clinking cutlery and disembodied voices. 

He heard Kenny sigh; no doubt that even he was affected by that little show. “Levi —”

“I’m working on the merger.” Levi said quickly, then scooped up a large spoonful of omlette and forced himself to chew and swallow. 

When he glanced up at his uncle, Kenny’s eyes were wide, mouth hanging open. Finally, the older man exhaled a couple of choice words and rubbed his temples. 

“Some luck we have, huh, Shorty?” 

Levi could only nod.

Then after silence, Kenny spoke up again. “I’m leaving tomorrow.” At Levi’s questioning stare, he elaborated. “For Shinganshina.” 

Levi put his cutlery back down again. 

“…I’m meeting up with a few old buddies of mine back home, and was thinking that it was time I paid a visit. I mean, visiting once a year is too sad. She’ll think we don’t love her and force us to watch _Gossip Girl_ for eternity in the afterlife.” Kenny was watching his nephew carefully, knowing that this line of talk usually rubbed the short man the wrong way. “And you, Levi. It’s been what, eleven years since you’ve stepped foot in that town? I get it if you don’t like going in January, but hey, it’s November right now. You’ve got vacation days stashed in your basement collecting dust. So, tomorrow?Road trip with good ol’ Uncle Kenny, huh Shorty? How ‘bout that?” 

“No.”

“Levi —”

“I said no—”

“Shorty —”

“For fuck’s sake, I said no!” Levi snapped and stood, knocking over his glass of water. 

The restaurant fell silent, watching the two. Levi could hear that family of four whispering (“Kids, don’t look at that bad man. With that temper, no wonder he’s in cuffs. That poor police officer!”) and the bystanders’ heated stares. Slowly, he lowered himself back onto his chair as Nifa quietly came over with a mop and dustpan. 

“Sorry.” He muttered. 

She gave a half-smile. 

Kenny cleared his throat. “Nifa, doll, can we get the bill please? We’ll be out of your hair.” 

The moment Kenny undid the cuff on the chair, Levi threw a couple of bills onto the table before stomping out. The ride back to Levi’s office was silent, though he saw Kenny’s eyes dart to his figure several times in the rearview mirror. 

“You sure you don’t want in?” Kenny asked for the final time when Levi stepped out of the car, rubbing his bruised wrists. 

“Yeah,” he replied softly. 

The older man bit his lip, and hung his arm out of the rolled-down window. “You know, Levi, maybe you should give it a chance. How d’you know how things will turn out if you don’t give it a chance?”

“Kenny, we’re talking about going back to Shinganshina. You’re not trying to patronize me into eating my vegetables.” 

Kenny’s lips quirked. “Can I tempt you with meeting Eren Jaëger?”

Levi let out a noise of exasperation. “How the hell did we get back to the topic of Jaëger?”

Kenny laughed and changed the car gears out of parking. “Well, I gave my best shot, Shorty. Let’s get brunch again.” 

“Which translates to me buying you brunch again.” Levi muttered as his uncle drove away. 

* * *

It was late when Levi and Nile finished signing off on the preliminary paperwork.

“Night Ackerman, hope you die in your sleep.” Came Nile’s loving goodbye. 

“Night Dok, hope you die on the crapper.” Levi returned the affection. 

After Nile left, Levi sat back in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes. Lowering his hands, he saw the blurs of his computer screen for a few seconds before his eyes finally focused in on the spreadsheet. 

The door to his office cracked open. 

“Yoohoo!” Greeted Hange, who was much too alert and chipper after a twelve-hour work day. 

Levi let his head drop back on the chair’s headrest, staring at the ceiling. 

“Shitty Glasses, I just realized that artificial intelligence is amazing.” He muttered. 

Hange closed the door behind her as she skipped over and sat down in Nile’s chair. 

“Wow, Shorty, you really must be tired and out of your mind to start this convo with me. But yes, AI is pretty sweet. What’s up?”

“Just thinking. It would be great to be able to reboot people. Like, someone could get the shit beat out of them and be on their deathbed, but then you’d press a button, and they’d revive.”

Hange nodded, looking deep in thought. “Ah, so like sustaining life on an operating battery? Remote controlled?”

“Yup.” Levi said as he sat up straight to narrow his eyes at the woman. “Then I can aim my remote at you and shut you the hell up and power you down for the night. You’re too fucking loud, woman.” 

Hange pouted. “Awww, that’s mean Levi! You could just remote lower my volume! Anyways, I’m here to talk so don’t power me down!”

“About?”

She grinned and wagged her eyebrows. “That Facebook cutie of course! OMGyou two looked so precious in that photo! Did you end up messaging him?”

“Right. About that.” Levi closed his laptop. “First, fuck you for posting that photo. Second, fuck you for sexually harassing him online. Third, fuck you for making me talk to him.” 

“It didn’t go well?” Disappointment was clear on her face. “But, like, Levi, you told me about how adorable he was that time you got drunk and had to get your stomach pumped —” Levi groaned at the memory “— so I thought you would hit it off so well! I mean, you got that _chemistry_ and all! Not to mention,” Here, she blushed as her face became fifty-shades-of-perverted, “He’s hot as hell. Don’t lie to me, Levi; you’ve thought about his cock in your ass, haven’t you? Or yours in his?That reminds me: we’ve been friends for like, ten years, and I _still_ haven’t figured out if you’re a top or a bottom!” 

“That, I will make sure you never know.” Levi growled and rubbed his eyes again; fuck, he could feel a migraine oncoming. “I somehow managed to pick a fight with him.” _And lose the fight,_ he added mentally, _lost so bad that I ran with my tail between my legs._ He didn’t even want to think about the latter blows Jaëger had dealt him. 

“Well, what did you say?”

He had a feeling that was going to regret it, but he logged into Facebook, found the conversation with Jaëger, and handed his phone over. As she read, Hange’s face contorted from expressions of disbelief, to grimaces (most likely at Levi’s social ineptitude), to outright chuckles (most likely at Eren’s wit). 

When she finished, she looked up at Levi, face flushed like she had ran a marathon, eyes glistening with tears of laughter. 

“Seriously? When I said you should _talk_ to him, I was thinking of a pick-up line that has to do with shit — your specialty — or something. Why the hell would you sound all serious and threaten to sue him?”

Levi winced. “I didn’t know what else to say.” 

It was the truth. Yes, he did have issues with online privacy and tried his utmost best to keep images of himself off the internet (especially cringe-worthy photos of his younger self that might just make some online pedophile’s day). But he supposed that he may have exaggerated the severity of the photo’s damage, and that his demands may have bordered just a _little_ bit on the unreasonable side. But how else should he have started the conversation? He had stared at Jaëger’s profile picture — Jaëger with his head thrown back in laughter, tank top and exposed well-sculpted arms covered in paint as he holstered a paintball gun over his shoulder — and would have continued to do so _ad infinitum_ trying to think of something to say. 

Neither _“Hey it’s your kindergarten reading buddy that you probably don’t remember but whateves, hey”_ nor _“I’m sorry for leaving halfway through the year without saying goodbye”_ sounded like good lines to restart their relationship with, especially if it turns out that Jaëger had no idea who he was (he prayed that this wasn’t the case). At the same time, going with Hange’s suggestion of a shit pick-up line wasn’t a good idea either. 

Levi snorted, imagining what would have happened if his opening one-liner had been: _“Are you constipated? Cause I wanna fuck the shit out of you.”_

On the other hand, he wasn’t even sure _why_ he had wanted to talk to Jaëger so badly: Hange had suggested it after they had been tagged in the post by Isabel and Farlan. He had brushed it off at first, rolling his eyes — why would he talk to some shitty brat that he had talked to in elementary school? But the idea had stuck with him, a yearning in the back of his head, and he ended up giving in and sending the damn message. 

A shit load of good that did. 

Levi was considering deleting his Facebook account. 

“Maybe you could have, I don’t know, complimented him on his appearance?” Hange pointed out. “I know your dick does, so why can’t your fingers type that out? Better yet, leave a _public_ compliment on his profile picture. And like it.”

“Right,” Levi muttered, rolling his eyes. “I don’t do that shit.” 

Hange shrugged. “You should give it a try. Might work out well.” 

“Yeah right.” Levi rebooted his laptop, subtly hinting to the woman that he wanted to be left alone. Hange, of course, had failed Psych 101 and did not pick up on it. 

“Anywho, how’s the merger comin’ along?” She chirped. “Probably well, since Nile left and all. I mean, the guy’s as workaholic as you, Shorty, and even he’s tuned in for the night.” 

“The guy has a nagging wife and three kids,” Levi said, clicking on a document. “What do you expect? If we continued on signing these shitty papers all night, she would’ve slapped him with a divorce the second he walks into this house.” 

“And you, my short little friend,” Hange circled around behind him and closed his laptop to his protest. “You, have friends that want to go out for a midnight snack together. And you look like you could use some ears and shoulders to listen to ya.” 

“Those are the only useful parts of you lot,” Levi murmured. 

Hange rolled her eyes and dragged Levi out of his chair, throwing his coat at him. “C’mon Levi! Nifa texted me about your blowup this morning —” Levi groaned “— and Mama Hange wants in on the deets! How did Kenny ruffle your feathers this time? C’mon, spill to us over good food!”

“Whatever,” He replied as he shrugged into his coat, and picking up his briefcase, he let Hange lead him out of his office. 

She was chattering on about office gossip when they saw, in the distance, Moblit, Erwin, and Mike standing in the lobby. Levi stilled his steps. 

He was never quite the social butterfly, and had not given it much thought when Hange said that they were going out with ‘friends’ (the plural kind). Hange was more of a pain in his ass than hemorrhoids and on a good day he would be able to leave with his dignity intact after being subjected to Erwin-the-Mind-Reader’s manipulative and calculating nature. But he had known Hange since he moved out of Shinganshina and Erwin had been like a brother to him since his first year of college; he knew them well and vice versa, and knew that they were good people with nothing but good intentions towards him. 

That was not to say that the bumbling Moblit or silent Mike were candidates for Levi’s shit-list, but he didn’t quite feel like spilling his guts to _that_ many ears and shoulders — especially if Hange was the one dictating the type of information he was expected to supply. Not to mention, the stress of the past 24 hours had him wishing for a swift reunion with his clean sheets, a warm bath, and a nice glass of wine. 

“You coming, Levi?” Hange had noticed his hesitance and peered at him with concern through her glasses. 

“Rain check,” He said. 

She gave him a long look and sighed, determining his decision to be too stubborn to budge. “We’ll be at The Underground Bar and Grill if you change your mind. Just know, Shorty, we’re gonna have to talk sometime — you, me, and Eyebrows over there — so don’t be too surprised if the two of use barge in on your happy time one night with good alcohol.” 

“I won’t be.” He said, lips curling up. “Enjoy.”

Hange waved and floundered off to the small group, linking arms with Moblit. Levi slinked behind a marble column, staying out of sight as he felt Erwin’s scrutinizing gaze survey the area while his boyfriend sniffed the air for the source of Bailing-Levi stench. When the four of them walked out of the building, Levi came out of hiding, letting out a tired sigh and walked out of the front door as well. 

* * *

It was nearing midnight when Levi sat before his computer, staring yet again, at Eren Jaëger’s profile. He drummed his fingers impatiently on his desk, then sighed in disappointment, realizing that the kid wasn’t even online.

His head buzzing pleasantly with alcohol, he scrolled through his recent posts again, the entire time not too clear as to his own motives. He clicked on the comments of his recently changed profile picture and snorted. 

“Kid really has nothing better to do,” Levi murmured with amusement. Jaëger had liked and sent personalized responses to each comment left on the photo. However, he did leave Isabel and Farlan’s thread untouched, save for the _‘Thanks :’)’_ left in response to Isabel’s initial _‘Cute Pic! <3’_

“Then again,” he grimaced, reflecting on his stalking, “neither do I. The fuck am I doing.”

Just then, a notification popped up: it was a photo of Hange, Moblit, Erwin, and Mike at the Underground. It was captioned: _Amaaaaaaazing double date! @Levi Ackerman we miss our fifth wheel! </3_

“Fucking Shitty Glasses.” Was there an ‘unlike’ option? Nope, there wasn’t, but Levi remembered that there was now the ‘react’ feature. He clicked on the red angry face. 

He studied the photo: the two couples seated in a warmly lit booth, food laid out before them, and happy grins on each of their faces. Hange was beaming as she brandished a chicken drumstick in the air; Moblit had his arm around her, his soft gaze speaking miles of his affection for her. Next to Hange, Erwin raised his glass in a toast while Mike squinted at the camera. Erwin’s left arm and Mike’s right one were both out of sight, under the table: Levi knew that a peek under would afford the watcher the sight of joint hands, fingers intertwined. 

Levi was really, _sincerely_ glad that he skipped out on this opportunity to once again, be the fifth wheel. 

He wasn’t desperate for a relationship, per se — other than Insomnia, he had his fair share of hookups and short-lived affairs — and after a day at his nine-to-five job, horrible rush-hour traffic, and getting picked up by Kenny every other day, he didn’t have the time either to entertain a relationship. But when surrounded by happy couples in fulfilling relationships, he couldn’t help but wish that _he_ was on the receiving end of something nice, something _constant._ The way Erwin and Mike would murmur soft instructions to each other as they bustled about in their kitchen, hands touching unnecessarily; the way Hange would laugh obnoxiously at Moblit’s bad jokes as they leaned against each other, fatigued, during the commute home, all of it inspired something in Levi: a certain craving for someone that _he_ could brush fingers with in their love nest, someone to laugh at _his_ bad jokes as they suffered on public transport. 

In all honesty, Levi hated being the only single one in his group of friends. Watching them and their happiness, it made him wish for things that he ought not to have. Nice things. After all, Levi can’t have nice things. Nice things, like…someone he could trust with his inner thoughts and demons (willingly; not having the information pulled out of him like with Hange or Kenny). Someone to look under the bed for him as he huddled beneath his sheets, assuring him that there were no monsters. 

_Right, but you shouldn’t have nice things, it’ll be too painful when they break. When YOU break them._ It was a yearning he had shoved deep into his heart, forcefully willing it to not re-surface.

The closest he had to a nice thing was, he surmised as his eyes found the Rogue Titan plushie propped up against his bookshelf, was a little boy with the pretty eyes who listened to him on that January day. Had him thinking, even so many years later, just maybe, _maybe._

Then again, who was Eren Jaëger now? Would this brainless photowhore of a brat be good company? Would he want Levi’s company? Did this cocky, short-tempered and rude brat still count as ‘something nice’?

“No.” He snapped. “Definitely not.” 

_You know, Levi, maybe you should give it a chance. How d’you know how things will turn out if you don’t give it a chance?_

Why the alcohol was summoning Kenny’s words now, Levi had no idea. But, it was true: you can’t step in dog shit if you don’t take a step. And if you don’t take a step, you don’t get anywhere. Levi was bored. Eren Jaëger wasn’t a ‘nice thing’. Therefore, if Levi was to mess with and exploit this brat for his wit as entertainment, no harm would be done, other than ruining a couple of good memories. 

_Do you really want to do that? You don’t have many good memories to begin with._

Levi spared the Rogue Titan one last look. 

“Fuck it.” He decided. 

* * *

**Levi Ackerman**

It’s past your bedtime brat. Go the fuck to sleep. 

**Eren Jaëger**

Really, old man?

I actually _liked_ that book and u ruined it

U go to sleep

U might grow taller

**Levi Ackerman**

Kid, it’s been 12 years. I would let you know that I did in fact grow taller.

The short jokes are getting old. 

**Eren Jaëger**

Oh? How tall are you now?

 

Levi hesitated before responding. But what the hell did it matter? It wasn’t as though he and Jaëger were going to meet in person. A little lie wouldn’t hurt.

 

**Levi Ackerman**

5’6

 

Ha, he wished. 

 

**Eren Jaëger**

Damn, go worship ur goddess puberty

but haha I’m still taller

5’7 :) 

**Levi Ackerman**

Too bad your intellect hasn’t grown with your height. 

Then we would be having a semi-intelligent conversation. 

**Eren Jaëger**

Fuck you asshole

why do I even bother replying to u?

u just want to make me feel bad

how shitty is ur life that u have to make fun of a high school kid to feel somewhat good about yourself?

u were nicer before

 

Really, what was he doing? Levi felt a gnawing inside as he read the words _u were nicer before._ Oh God, he’s starting to feel bad about being an asshole. His heart sank as Eren Jaëger promptly went offline. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” He groaned as he typed furiously. For whatever reasons, he didn’t want to part like this with Jaëger tonight. 

 

**Levi Ackerman**

Brat, come back online and we can talk like civilized adults. You leaving like a pissed off kid throwing a tantrum isn’t helping your case.

 

“Right, cause that’s gonna make him want to talk to you.” He lectured himself, scowling, before typing again. 

 

**Levi Ackerman**

Okay, ignore that. Don’t ignore me though, Jaëger. 

Shit.

Okay, what I’m trying to say is that yes, I might be in the wrong here for laying the facts of life onto you but I’m dropping the lawsuit. Don’t worry about that. We can just talk. 

 

Now he just sounds extremely desperate for his attention. Well, that wasn’t far off from the truth. Why did he mention the lawsuit again? 

 

**Levi Ackerman**

Look Jaëger, I had a long shitty day and had to take it out somewhere. Had a few drinks. I’m not proud of it. 

Just…I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. 

Shit. Just talk or something. I need a distraction. 

Your stupid Titan doll isn’t doing the trick anymore.

 

Great, why did he write that last bit? Now he must seem like some psycho stalker who’s still holding onto decade old paraphernalia. 

But just then, Jaëger came back online, and the word ‘Seen’ appeared at the bottom of the chat. Then came more words:

**Eren Jaëger changed your nickname to Short Salt Shaker.**

Levi blinked. What? 

 

**Eren Jaëger**

Ur just salty I rekt u yesterday and had to retaliate to save ur ego. 

btw u still have that plushie? 

**Short Salt Shaker**

Brat. What the hell did you do???????

How do I change this back? No, fuck you. YOU change it back!

Yes I do.

**Eren Jaëger**

Nahhhhh it suits you!

**Short Salt Shaker**

As I already told you, I’m not short anymore!

Fuck, I will change my mind about the lawsuit if you don't change it back. Fuck that, how do I change yours? 

**Eren Jaëger**

Why do I feel like u threaten to sue me whenever u get salty?

maybe you could be a good person and spread your saltiness on slippery winter roads instead

Nope, I’m not telling u old man! figure it out urself!

**Short Salt Shaker**

Fuck brat. I really need a break from this shit day I’ve had.

Your brattiness is really extra.

**Eren Jaëger**

What happened?

 

And it was like the tone of the entire conversation had shifted onto something more pleasant…nicer. 

 

**Short Salt Shaker**

It’s too much shit to unload on a first-grader like you. 

But thanks for the concern. 

**Eren Jaëger**

ruuuuuuude

but dude, it must’ve been super shitty if ur drinking enough to pick a virtual fight with a kid 7 years younger than u

I’m a good listener :)

I think I am. my friend and my sister don’t think so :(

btw send me a pic!!!!!! and I’ll send u one!

 

Jaëger was actually pleasant to talk to when not provoked. Levi stared at the last message, mind spinning. Pic? A picture? Of what? He wanted Levi to send him a picture…and he’ll send Levi one back. Could it be…nudes? 

 

**Short Salt Shaker**

Jaëger this is Facebook, not Tinder.

If you want dick pics you should at least buy me dinner before. 

**Eren Jaëger**

WTF?????!!!!

DUDE. NO. JUST NO

JFC WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?????

 

Well, he thought glumly, it would totally suck if Jaëger turned out to be a raging homophobe. 

 

**Eren Jaëger**

DUDE I’m asking for a pic of my precious Rogue Titan!!!!!!!!

I miss that little bro!!!!!!

WTF 

u don’t get to see my dick for free!!!!!

**Short Salt Shaker**

And who was the one calling me a ‘sugar dispenser’? The one who’s now asking me to pay up to see his goods? 

**Eren Jaëger**

DUDE JUST STOP

this convo is getting weird

don’t make it weird man

we used to be so innocent!!!!!!

and I corrected myself! ur a salt shaker!

 

If anyone had walked into Levi Ackerman’s home office at midnight that night, they would’ve been treated to the rare sight of the man wearing a rare smile on his face as he replied to one Eren Jaëger. 

Shaking his head, Levi grabbed the plushie from his shelf and took a picture. He forwarded the picture on his phone’s messenger. 

 

**Short Salt Shaker**

There. Happy? 

**Eren Jaëger**

Yes! 

wow man you took such good care of it!

it looks the same as before!

Right I need to send you one!

 

What Levi received, was a picture of a worn and dog-eared copy of _Go the F_ck to Sleep._

 

**Short Salt Shaker**

Can’t say you gave my book the same loving care brat. 

**Eren Jaëger**

whatcha mean? it’s worn cuz I loved it too much!

 

Levi felt his heart flutter. _He kept the book._ This really did feel nice, talking to the brat like this. 

 

**Eren Jaëger**

gtg need my beauty sleep 

u sure u don’t wanna talk bout ur shit day?

**Short Salt Shaker**

When you improve your grammar, we can start talking about adult things. 

**Eren Jaëger**

Fuck you old man

**Short Salt Shaker**

Go the fuck to sleep Jaëger.

 

Locking his phone, Levi turned off his lamp and computer. After cleaning himself piously, he settled into his sheets and swiped around on Jaëger’s profile for one last time that night. He saved the newest addition to _365 Days ‘till Ripped Af,_ feeling oddly content as the first hour to the new day came to a close. 

In the dark, he saw looming figures and flickering shadows, then the monster rising from beneath his bed. Insomnia loomed over him, batting her lashes and puckering her lips. 

Levi shook his head. 

“Not tonight, you bitch.” 

And with a huff, she was gone, and Levi knew that the space beneath his bed would be blissfully empty for the night. 

For the first in a very long time, he slept well. 

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't express just how much your comments and kudos keep me motivated :)  
> BTW for those interested, Go the F_uck to Sleep is a real book. It's quite interesting...
> 
> Next Chapter: Eren and Grisha get into a fight and Eren decides to retaliate using the son of a certain company president.


End file.
